In front of them stood a modest structure—an improvised house, long and wide, stretching across half of the back portion of the building's rooftop.
The structure was made of rusted, worn metal panels, with faded gray paint, a corroded air conditioner unit, and a crooked antenna on its flat roof. What were supposed to be two windows were visible: the left one covered by torn black plastic, and the right one cracked but not fully shattered. The corroded air conditioner's dull hum reminded Devyus of the dying pulse of the city. The wet ground reflected the blue and orange neon lights, creating shimmering puddles and subtle metallic glints.
It was an improvised little home, more heart than stability, wedged between lines of hanging laundry and rusted satellite dishes—a place that the heroine considered better than most, given the malice and decay of this district.
What could have been a starry sky or a sweeping view of the vast metropolis behind that fragile dwelling was an illusion—no sky was visible at all. Instead, an enormous abandoned building loomed extremely close, almost touching the rooftop where the house stood, blocking the entire background from side to side and top to bottom.
Its cracked walls, collapsed balconies, and shattered windows were dimly illuminated by the orange and blue neon glow of the city, emanating an oppressive sense of urban decay. In some of the decaying floors, complete doors and rusted railings could still be seen—remnants of better years.
"I know it's not much," the girl said, embarrassed, her tone apologetic but unable to hide a faint pride in the refuge she had claimed. "But I guess it's better than nothing. A student… I think… used to live here. He stayed with a pink-haired girl and an older man. But something happened to them. I met the girl a couple days before they… disappeared. For the first few days, the police swarmed this area looking for them. But eventually, they gave up. Like they always do with everyone…"
The three siblings observed the structure without the slightest reaction. They were more than accustomed to adapting to radical changes. For them, the transition from a life of absolute luxury in the hidden village of Hinata-soul—where Devyus reigned as Sixth Lord in a mansion that was a monument to excess—to their first true home in the depths of Hell had not been traumatic, but natural. Comfort was a circumstance, not a necessity.
"Don't worry. We've been in worse," Devyus said, with a voice so flat and dry it sounded unquestionably true.
"Much worse," Catherine added, eyeing a persistent leak dripping from the metal ceiling with disdain.
"Historical data confirms our worst dwelling exceeded the structural deficiencies of this unit by 87.3%," Katherine stated, adjusting her glasses as she examined the welding in one corner.
Himika blushed slightly—not out of shame, but due to how disturbingly normal they found all of this. With a metallic creak, she pulled open the thin metal door that served as the entrance.
Inside was a single room. Three windows—two in front and one on the side that had been invisible from outside—covered by several planks of wood. In one corner, a thick, faded curtain acted as a divider for a small "bedroom," which was really just a messy double bed.
A wobbling coffee table, a small refrigerator buzzing with strain, an old curved-screen TV, worn-out couches, a few low cabinets, and a closet completed the furnishings. In one corner lay a rolled-up old futon, aged but clean. To the sisters, the structure felt less like a home and more like a relic of human stubbornness—something that once had warmth.
"I don't usually have visitors," the dancer admitted, placing her bag on the table. "But go ahead. The bathroom is outside, on the south side of the rooftop. I usually use the showers at The Hive… they're better."
Devyus moved to enter, but Mina stepped quickly into the doorway, blocking him. Her determination was clear.
"Um… you," she said, pointing at the incubus, "could you wait outside for a moment?" She glanced at her sisters. "You two can go in. I'd like to change out of these work clothes… and I think your sisters might also appreciate changing. What you're wearing underneath those suits must be… uncomfortable."
The twins exchanged a meaningful look. Under their elegant outfits, they indeed wore the fitted attire of their true form, currently hidden by human illusion.
"I'll close my eyes," Devyus replied instantly, with such absolute seriousness that it was nearly comedic.
Their reaction was immediate. Both sisters, moving with the synchronization forged over millennia, reached out and grabbed one of his ears each, pulling hard enough to force him back.
"Onii-sama, behave yourself!" they snapped in perfect unison, voices mixed with exasperation and scolding.
"OW—! Fine, fine," Devyus relented, rubbing his reddened ears. "I'll wait outside. I didn't mean—"
"Yes, you did," Katherine cut in coldly.
"Completely," the elder sister added, crossing her arms.
With no other choice, Devyus turned and stepped out, letting the door close behind him. He stood alone on the rooftop, the cold night breeze brushing his face as he looked over the neon city stretching endlessly before him.
A false city, built upon rotten hope.
His mind wandered, briefly, back to Hinata-soul. How was the village without him? Were his former companions well? Worried? Or relieved? And most importantly—when would they choose their next Lord? Someone who would, hopefully, not carry the same demons.
Minutes later, the door creaked open. He turned—and felt the air leave his lungs.
Himika Toshi stood in the doorway, bathed in the faint light coming from inside. She no longer wore the revealing dancer's outfit nor the heavy beige coat she had left work in.
Now, the purple-skinned girl wore short shorts and a loose pale-pink shirt, both worn but clean, revealing more of her beautiful lavender skin. Her hair, free from high ponytails, fell loose over her shoulders in soft, pink waves. The bold makeup that had once emphasized her golden eyes was gone.
Her face was fresh, bare, carrying a quiet and vulnerable serenity completely unlike the tough, cynical girl from hours earlier.
She looked… innocent. Angelic. Painfully natural.
And Devyus—the millennial incubus, the ex-Lord who had faced armies, furious enemies across multiple universes, and who had danced with death more times than he could count—could not stop the heat rushing up his neck, flushing his cheeks a deep, burning red.
"If you've reached this far… thank you for walking through Devyus's silence."
"Your thoughts matter — even one word helps me keep building this world."
© 2025 D.S.V.
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